


The Unimaginable Light you Hold Inside

by MooncatEclipse (Wolfgrowl)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Other, Title from a Sleeping At Last Song, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-05 08:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfgrowl/pseuds/MooncatEclipse
Summary: A collections of drabbles centered around Nijoh'ir Jesyho based on the prompts from the Tumblr FFXIV writing event.





	1. Voracious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna bother to add tags to this thing 'cause even I don't know what all is going to pop up in here and I don't want to clutter ship tags and stuff with a 30 chapter collection and people be like "sweet 30 *insert tag here* fics" and it only pops up in one chapter. I've been there. It sucks.

Nijoh smiled as she watched her two youngest excitedly shove each other, giggling softly as they tried to get away with teasing each other without her notice, and at jokes she would never know.

Ra looked most like her of all her sons, he had the same indigo eyes, same dark ear tips, he smiled happily at the son that looked the least like her. Ir, so clearly not hers, so dearly hers. Her adopted son with his bright hair, bright eyes, a sun to their moons.

“Sunmane we won’t get to have any desert if you eat all the apples!” Ra was saying, Nijoh smiled to herself. Youngest they may be but they were quickly coming to the age when they really started growing. She had no doubt that the two of them could eat apples until they were stuffed and then somehow find room for her dinner. Or the apple tart desert she was making in this case.

“I’ll just pick twice as many as I eat!” Ir boasted, he tossed his head and his tufts of hair caught the sun just right, a firey mane.

Ra considered him a moment and then said very seriously, “you’re going to have to pick a lot then.”

Ir squawked and Nijoh stepped in before her boys began to roughhouse, “how about the two of you find beehive chips and cinnamon and _I’ll _pick the apples?”

Ir stuck his tongue out at Ra, Nijoh gave him a stern look, “Sunmane.”

“I don’t eat that many apples!” He pouted as he set his basket down, “and Tyago always sends us to get apples.”

“Does she now?” Nijoh had thought her daughter was supposed to be the one gathering apples as the boys were still a bit short to pick enough apples without having to climb into the trees.

“I think she’s scared of wasps,” Ir nodded firmly, “anyway, you know I don’t eat all the apples Ra!”

“You eat a lot Sunmane!” Ra insisted, Ir pulled himself up to his full height, a few ilms taller than his brother and frowned.

“I’m taller, I need to eat more.”

Nijoh watched them scamper off to look in the bushes for cinnamon and beehive chips and snails and all the countless things children find fascinating. When they thought she wasn’t looking, Ir scrambled up a tree to pick three apples. One he gave to Ra, one he began to eat, and the other he set in the basket, clearly for later. Nijoh watched them carefully, comparing Ir to Ra. He wasn’t too thin was he? Did Seekers grow faster than Keepers? He was three moons younger, so they’d guessed as best they could (which after ten children between three of them they felt relatively certain of his age) but he was taller than Ra, had always been a little larger.

She shook her head, no, Ir was just growing. He and Ra both were. Ra snagged Ir’s apple and began to eat it, she pretended not to hear Ir’s cry of surprise and betrayal, and their hissed argument before Ra went up the tree to fetch an apple to pay him back.

They were just growing boys with a healthy appetite. The last of her children, how quickly they were growing. All the more reason for her to make sure to gather plenty of apples herself. After all there were several more, hungry, ones at home.


	2. Bargain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions IssaMorg's good good boy Amasar!

“Nijoh’ir?”

“Yes, Alphinaud?”

“You can put me down now.”

“But if I do that you’ll just go back to the Forgotten Knight.”

“Well yes.”

Nijoh’ir adjusted the Elezen teen he had slung over his shoulder and patted his back, “so who needed the Warrior of Light this time?”

“We were supposed to talk to Count Edmont about a way to- No do not carry me to the Fortemps Manor!”

People were definitely staring but Nijoh’ir pretended not to notice. People stared at him anyway. Warrior of Light, Miqo’te in Ishgard, Ward of House Fortemps and rumored lover of Lord Haurchefant so yeah, he got a lot of looks.

“You do realize that we will probably need Amasar for this right?”

“I don’t know what this is but whatever it is I can handle it on my own,” Nijoh’ir’s ears twitched, “let Amasar enjoy a break.”

“Who was that he was talking to anyway?”

“His business,” Nijoh’ir replied firmly, “if he wanted you to know-”

“But they knew you.”

“Oh yeah they’re friends of mine.” Nijoh’ir grinned and finally set Alphinaud down, but immediately grabbed the collar of his jacket to prevent him from sprinting off to retrieve the other Warrior of Light, “Alphinaud-”

“He’s dating them isn’t he.” It’s a statement not a question, and Alphinaud sounds hurt.

Some part of Nijoh’ir, the part that hates being cruel, softens. It’s not easy to find out both your crushes were seeing other people. But the part of him who remembered why he was doing this in the first place reminded him to be firm.

“Yes.” Nijoh’ir softened now, but did not release his grip, “Amasar deserves something that makes him happy and Fray and Sid do. So, leave him alone.”

Alphinaud didn’t look at Nijoh’ir, his gaze was locked in the direction they had come, “do the two of you have some kind of arrangement?”

“What kind of arrangement?” Nijoh’ir wasn’t sure where this was going, it wouldn’t be the first time someone implied that he and Amasar were best friends with benefits but he thought Alphinaud of all people would know better. But then Alphinaud could be oblivious to the small details.

“To keep me away from each other every once in a while?”

Well he was hunting in the right part of the forest at least. Nijoh’ir decided to not tell the sixteen-year-old that, yes, he and Amasar had struck a bargain to prevent Alphinaud from cockblocking them.

“Alphinaud, we’re… we’re people too okay? Sometimes we need space.” He was trying not to snap, a familiar darkness was snarling in the back of his mind but he kicked it back into the abyss for now. “time to sleep, or to spend time with someone other than the scions.”

Alphinaud glanced at him, Nijoh’ir relatively certain both of them remembering standing in Camp Dragonhead, Nijoh’ir trying to talk to Haurchefant only for him to trail off under Alphinaud’s glare. Of Alphinaud ordering him not to return to Camp Dragonhead. Orders Nijoh’ir had ignored.

“I… see.” Alphinaud finally turned away from the Forgotten Knight to continue towards Fortemps Manor, “well, it will not do to keep Count Edmont waiting. Amasar shall simply have to get filled in when he joins us.”

Nijoh’ir’s sigh of relief billowed around his face in the cold air and he followed after Alphinaud.


	3. Lost

“Nijoh’ir, we need to go!”

“Look I’m not leaving without my Aether compass!” Nijoh’ir was on his knees, shoved half under the inn bed, his tail was ramrod straight behind him and fluffed out as he searched desperately. Alphinaud sighed loudly as he watched him continue to practically tear the room apart looking for his compass.

“We don’t need one where we’re going-”

“I know.”

“We will be there only a short period of time.”

“I know!”

“And it will likely turn up in your bag-”

_“I know Alphinaud.” _Nijoh’ir snarled and turned his back to him to riffle frantically through his bag, Alphinaud could hear vials clicking against each other, Alphinaud stepped back and held up his hands, startled by the ferocity Nijoh’ir had displayed.

Nijoh’ir hissed through his teeth, “where _is _it?” Alphinaud had questions about some of things that his friend tossed on the bed as he rummaged through for it, was that a vial of blood? No. No, most horrifyingly, that was multiple vials of blood.

Alphinaud stepped forward slowly, “Nijoh’ir, should you need a new Aether compass I know for a fact that Gibrillont sells more. They are quite cheap and-”

“This one was special, Alphinaud.” Nijoh’ir’s voice was tight, as though he was struggling not to snarl at him again, which Alphinaud did appreciate. He didn’t appreciate the waste of time though.

“Nijoh’ir, if it means that much to you we can-” Alphinaud’s very logical argument was cut off by him stumbling near a chair, he managed to catch himself on the back but a sharp crack split the air, the kind that came from glass breaking under a heel.

“Oh, Gods please no,” Nijoh’ir breathed and whirled around to stare at Alphinaud’s offending right leg. A leg Alphinaud was concerned he was about to lose, given what he had just stepped on. Hidden under a draped jacket was the very aether compass Nijoh’ir had been looking for so frantically.

That Alphinaud had just crushed under heel.

“Nijoh’ir, I promise I’ll…” Alphinaud trailed off, the look of devastation on the Warrior of Light’s face was indescribable and enough to leave even him struggling for words.

Nijoh’ir made a choked whimper and knelt down to look at it, but Alphinaud did not need to be an expert craftsman to see that his carelessness had well and truly crushed it.

He would buy a new one of course, he had been planning to offer that before he stepped on it if only to get his companion moving, they had business to attend to. But the stricken look on Nijoh’ir’s face was one Alphinaud had seen only once before. And just as then a blank anger was slowly replacing it.

Alphinaud decided that silence was his best choice as Nijoh’ir roughly shoved everything back in his bag, Alphinaud hoped for his sake he did not break the vials open over clothes. Nijoh’ir slung his bag over his shoulder, it smacked against his hip and with not even a snarl or glance he stalked out of the room, Alphinaud still standing over broken pieces of a compass.

He bent down, mindful of the shards of glass, to pick up the remains of the compass, for some hope of a clue as to why Nijoh’ir had been so attached to it once and his anger and devastation at its destruction.

His fingers found it easily enough, cuts in the metal on the back far too precise to have been made by an accident, his or Nijoh’ir’s own carelessness in ownership.

He flipped it over and there the answer lay, more piercing than any of the shards he had so carefully avoided.

A simple engraving, ending in a flourished set of initials.

"For my Dearest Friend,

May it ever guide you true, as you guide me

_H.G._"


	4. Shifting Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fell behind so two for the price of one! (No deadlines until after the seventh so I'm squeaking in) Also have the bard boys!

“Well Guydelot if you hadn’t…” Nijoh’ir tuned Sanson to reflect on the miracle his mother had not killed one of her children had they been anything like this.

Not that such a comment was entirely fair. Nijoh’ir loved Sanson and Guydelot dearly, a fact he needed to remind himself of at the moment. In Guydelot he had found a kindred spirit, one ill suited for the typical structure of the Adders yet with a gift for singing; in Sanson he had found someone whose passion and drive he admired. In both he had found a friend.

Right now, though he had found his limit and it was Guydelot and Sanson bickering over something utterly stupid as they attempted to convince him of the other’s fault in the matter. Nijoh’ir had lost track of exactly what had caused the disagreement (it was a familiar song, the only thing that changed was the opening notes) and he watched them bicker, not flirt, they would never call it that but that’s what this onesided battle of wits was.

One sided because for all Nijoh’ir loved Sanson he would be the first to admit he had a tongue of lead to Guydelot’s tongue of silver. It was amazing to watch how the man could put his foot in his mouth in new and remarkable ways.

Not that Guydelot was without flaw as Nijoh’ir had no doubt that he was in some way responsible, he enjoyed getting a rise out of Sanson too much to not be.

“Nijoh’ir, are you listening?” Sanson demanded, Nijoh’ir focused on him.

“Have you kissed him yet?”

“What?” Sanson startled back and Guydelot almost dropped his lute.

“Like that’s what I think the problem is, you two need to kiss. And possible fu-“

“Thank you for that insight!” Sanson was beet red and Guydelot looked torn between mortification and amusement at Sanson’s expense.

“It’s what you keep me around for,” Nijoh’ir shrugged his shoulders with a bright grin, “now still want my opinion or should I leave you to… figure things out.”

“Well he’s right but it’s still your fault.” Guydelot had recovered first and Nijoh’ir was going to kick him in the knees.

“It is not my fault Guydelot, you are terrible about listening to orders, I know you have a strong intuition and I try to accommodate but I can only do…” Sanson trailed off, “wait. What.”

“I’m going. You’re both at fault and you should go get dinner, tell me how it works out, bye!” Nijoh’ir raced off tail streaming behind him.

“Then can we blame you for this?” Guydelot called after him.

“If it means you credit me with finally asking him out? Sure!”


	5. Vault

“Do you see him Nijoh’ir?” Amasar asked as his companion peered away from Falcon’s Nest off into the snow.

“Not yet but he usually shows up around now so I’m hoping…”

“There he is!” Nijoh’ir yelped and sprang over the wall to land up to his knee in the snow, stumbling forward for a few steps before he took off running. Amasar had switched to Dragoon and lunged ahead of his companion.

The yell and sudden flash of Amasar taking off caught the attention of their companions, who had stopped to greet Ser Aymeric and Haurchefant, leaving most of the scions blinking as they watched them run off into the snow.

“I hope my presence was not that appalling to them.” Aymeric’s mouth twitched with amusement though, clearly unoffended. “Shall we see what misadventure the two of them are in now?”

Alphinaud hardly needed prompting to run after them. Thancred and Y’shtola shrugged at each other and Krile smothered a laugh and followed her one time student. Haurchefant grinned at Aymeric, “let us join them on this adventure, shall we?”

-

Nijoh’ir and Amasar were not hard to find, fortunately, standing in the middle a snow field with bright colors (Nijoh’ir) and dark colors (Amasar). They stood with weapons drawn and laughing. Perhaps they had become snow drunk.

Thancred stared at them, "what are you two waiting for?"

Nijoh'ir and Amasar grinned and simultaneously announced, "Like the surging Coerthean Waters he comes!"

An indignant voice from overhead yelled, "stop stealing my lines" as a Dragoon crashed into the snow. It was not, however, Estinien. The dragoon glanced at Nijoh’ir and Amasar, “I have yet to break a sweat!”

Nijoh’ir’s tail and ears wiggled while Amasar adjusted the grip on his lance.

“Amasar can jump higher,” Nijoh’ir goaded, the Dragoon’s head turned to him.

“We shall see my friend!” He lunged at Nijoh’ir with the spear as the Miqo’te leapt backwards, “with a spear as stiff as ice I thrust!”

So began the dance, Nijoh’ir and Amasar weaving around him for what could be described as training, in fact it’s clear that’s what it was, for all three. But for one thing that was causing Thancred to have a “coughing” fit, Haurchefant to watch with a grin that would look more at home on his younger brother’s face and the other Scions, Alphinuad in particular, to watch in growing horror or bewilderment.

And that would be the things the dragoon yelled as he and Amasar leapt around the battle field, vaulting themselves into the air.

“Like the majestic Coerthean puffer, I swell!”

“I will not stop until my spear is notched and my butt is blunt!”

“Who is laughing now?

“I may not even need my butt!”

“What?” Alphinaud demanded, as the dragoon slammed to the ground with a surge of ice that clashed with the fire that swirled around Amasar’s own plunge.

“What has Estinien been teaching the dragoons?” Aymeric wondered out loud while Thancred finally gave in and burst out laughing.

The trio stopped to look at them, Nijoh’ir grinning, Amasar smirking slightly, and the dragoon panting.

“Now don’t be ridiculous,” Nijoh’ir’s tail twitched and he turned to nod at Amasar, “Estinien doesn’t teach them shit. Alaimbert is Amasar’s apprentice if he’s anyone’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ser Alaimbert is a gift and I want him in the trust system.


	6. 9 Hesitate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missed a few days because work. Worked Friday afternoon to closing midnight and then opened Saturday and worked until dinner. Needless to say I was exhausted. But that's what catch up days are for! So have chapter 9!

“Safe travels my friends,” Nijoh’ir blinked in surprise, the rush of fondness for Urianger and Alisaie had surprised him. After moons of thinking Urianger hated him, after only knowing Alisaie a few days, he feels… tied to them. Perhaps he’s just looking for a place to belong still. But hearing Alisaie talk and so clearly search for her own destiny, after hearing Urianger talk about how he’d done all this for Moenbryda… maybe there was some guilt for having misjudged him.

“Are you sure you do not wish to come with us?” Alisaie asked, Nijoh’ir wondered absently if she’d noticed him crying.

“I…” He hesitated, Urianger watched him silently, Nijoh’ir shuddered as he remembered the words Arbert had spoken. Gods what would it be like to have friends like he’d had? Five companions against the darkness, never alone. Would that be enough to turn the tide against the Ascians, end the sacrifices they’d had to make?

Arbert made it clear though that no matter what Nijoh’ir would be trapped in this destiny, never asked for, never wanted, as they demanded more and more until you had nothing to give.

Until they sent you to your death because they had nothing else, no plan other than you.

“Prithee, come with us, Nijoh’ir.” Urianger’s voice was soft, “I have no right to ask this of thou but thou should not be alone.”

Nijoh’ir shuddered again, a choked sob in his throat, how much of himself he’d seen in Arbert. The pain, the bitterness, the fact that they’d done everything right and still lost, still had to die to save their world, would Hydalyn ask that of him someday? What would be asked of him…

“Nijoh’ir,” Alisaie stepped towards him, Nijoh’ir stepped back and shook his head.

“I-“ He wanted to leave. But he’d made his choice in Whitebrim, told Esteem that he couldn’t leave, couldn’t abandon this unwanted destiny because he loved Eorzea too much.

But Haurchefant had been alive then.

So much had been different then.

And now he stood trapped on a path to a destiny he never wanted, with burdens and regrets and hesitated because what else could they ask of him?

What else could they-

Alisaie’s arms around his chest crushed him a little and Nijoh’ir made a small noise.

“Sorry. I could think of nothing else to do, you looked like you-“ Nijoh’ir hugged her back, his sobs mixing with his attempt at purring.

“Mine apologies,” Urianger spoke slowly, “I did not believe mine actions would have such a profound effect on thou.”

Nijoh’ir shook his head, unable to speak, unable to absolve him of the guilt, of the burden of this.

“Come with us Nijoh’ir,” Alisaie let him pull away, watching as he wiped his face on his sleeve, ears flattened in grief, “please.”

This time Nijoh’ir didn’t hesitate, he simply gave a jerky nod and to Urianger rasped, “lead the way.”


	7. 10 Foster

Nijoh’ir carefully carved the raw meat into small strips, before carving it again, and again until it was in small chunks, too small to even be used in soup.

The chorus of mews underfoot made him smile and he looked down at tiny claws in his pants, “Michief!”

The Coeurl kitten was well on his way to climbing up Nijoh’ir’s pants, green eyes wide and plaintive as he mewed again, reaching a paw up to wave as though attempting to get Nijoh’ir to put the plate of his food down sooner.

Nijoh’ir reached down instead to take him off his leg and set him on the ground, next to Fi, who also let out a mew.

“You’re both so hungry!” Nijoh’ir shook his head, and set the plates before them, their bells jingled softly as they ducked their heads to tuck into their food quickly.

Nijoh’ir sat down to watch them eat, his tail swished behind his back to help him find his balance as he crouched.

“I hope I’m feeding you two enough,” he had no idea how much food growing Coeurl kittens were supposed to eat but what was he supposed to do? Fi had imprinted on him and Mischief he’d won at the Gold Saucer. Neither would ever survive in the wild.

And they were his. He loved his kittens dearly, so he wanted what was best for them. He examined them as they ate. Their eyes were bright, coats glossy and well kept. When he pet them he couldn’t feel ribs. They seemed to be in good health so he must be doing something right.

“Of course I don’t know what I’m going to do when you two are finally full grown,” he admitted with a small grin, “But that’s a worry for another day.”


	8. 11 Snuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snuff - kill or put an end to in an abrupt or sudden manner.
> 
> Character death tw

“My husband, he… he died fighting the dragons, you see… and here we are, about to break bread with them.”

She doesn’t know exactly why she’s telling him about her husband, he’s about to be dead in seconds anyway, there’s enough mistletoe extract in there to kill a Roegadyn (or so they’d claimed) the miqo’te before her isn’t going to stand a chance.

He gives her a sad look like he understands, how dare he. Is that pity? Or, some part of her, wonders if it might be sympathy. They say he and that bastard lord that died were close.

He’s already drank the poison anyway. And it’s far too late for doubts. Not that she has any. Her husband didn’t die for them to make peace with those Fury damned beasts.

He starts to sway, she offers him a smile, “are you alright my lover? You look tired. Reckon you could do with a good long rest.” He’s clearly fighting to focus on her, fighting against the poison, a battle she’s watching him lose.

“After all you’ve done, I say you’ve _earned it.”_ She practically bites it out as he topples to floor, a few spare him a glance but she kneels over him, which reassures them all back to their drink. A happy day. No one would suspect the Warrior of Light was anything more than drunk for awhile.

“Sleep no, sleeeep.” She murmurs as his eyes, trained on her, begin to haze over, the fire in him snuffed out. “Leave us to our affairs.”

She pushes him a little under the table to help hide him from sight and so no one can see the slight foam on his mouth, “This was never your fight.”

Outsiders, heretics and father killers wanted to break bread with the dragons, make peace as though their families and lovers hadn’t died for this cause.

He had no idea what he’d stumbled into and she left him to lay there on the floor, safely removed. She had to let the others know that it was time for the next step of the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based off my headcanon that the WoL actually dies at the Peace Conference and the echo just revives them.


	9. 12 Fingers Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the 60-70 Bard quest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was super inspired for today's prompt so here two chapters in one day.

The fact that Guydelot wasn’t playing his lute as Nijoh’ir came up on him outside of the Adder’s Nest was the biggest sign that the bard was still flustered.

“I’ve just reported the situation.” He turned to Nijoh’ir, without his lute to hold Guydelot gestured as he spoke, movements just frantic enough to betray his worry. Nijoh’ir nodded and glanced towards the building behind him.

“They’re gonna call a meeting to talk strategy.” Guydelot continued, Nijoh’ir’s ears swiveled to listen to him, both of them looking to the Adder’s Nest for some sign that something would be done, some rescue, some help, something.

“As for Gylbarde’s journal… I’m still holding on to it. Told ‘em it was for the chief to hand over.” Nijoh’ir nodded sharply in agreement, “they were none too pleased, fancy that.” Guydelot paused long enough for Nijoh’ir to snort contempously before he continued, “you see, unlike our friend Sanson, and you yourself to some measure, I don’t have much faith in the order. Don’t trust ‘em to act in our best interests. The journal’s our bargaining chip, not only with them but with Nourval besides.”

“I believe the Twin Adders will do what is right for Gridania,” Nijoh’ir corrected softly, he turned to look over his shoulder at Guydelot, “which means I have little faith they’re going to help us. Unless we have the journal.”

Guydelot nodded in agreement, Nijoh’ir took over, “after all, Sanson’s just one man. No nation in their right mind would back out of an alliance like this, out of a war like this, over one man.” He shook his head, “and Sanson knew the risks when he joined, he said he was willing to die for his Grand Company and his country-”

“Whose side are you on here Nijoh’ir?” Guydelot cut in sharply, “I know you’re the logical one but-“

“Since when am I the logical one? I’m just the one not panicking so that we don’t do something stupid trying to get him back!”

“Just saying it, sounded like you agreed with what they’re gonna tell us.”

Nijoh’ir jerked his head up to hold Guydelot’s gaze, “you said it yourself, we’re in this together until the bitter end. I don’t give a damn what the brass says. I’m not leaving him in the hands of some dick that thinks a guy being poisoned a hundred years ago is reason enough to abandon those alive now to the empire!” Nijoh’ir bared his teeth, Guydelot jerked back, “make no mistake, I will tear Gyr Abania apart with my bare hands should it come to that. I'd do that for either of you, for both of you, we’re a fam- a team.”

Guydelot looked stunned into silence and Nijoh’ir stepped back, unflattening his ears and smoothing the fur on his tail down, “I just understand _why _the Twin Adders aren’t gonna help us, that’s all. Doesn’t mean I’m going to agree with them.”

"We bards are a dramatic lot aren't we," Guydelot mused and Nijoh'ir grinned, neither of them quite managing it, a song played on an out of tune instrument. No matter how correctly their fingers were placed the notes came out wrong. They were a trio, Guydelot something light and cheery, flashy and the captivating part of the melody, Sanson the steady beat that kept their rhythm and Nijoh’ir a blend of the two, something that lifted both parts. Without him though Nijoh’ir and Guydelot floundered to keep the melody steady.

“Fingers crossed we get some good news.” Nijoh’ir lifted his hand to show his fingers crossed, “maybe we’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“I doubt it.”

“I did say it would be a surprise.” Nijoh’ir let his hand drop to shift to a spot next to Guydelot, he leaned against him, pressing into his arm. Guydelot took a deep breath and leaned into him as well, the two silently watching the Adder’s Nest.

“You should go,” Guydelot finally broke their silence, “for now we’ll sit tight, see what the order and Nourval will do. And then we plan some doings of our own.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Guydelot gently clapped Nijoh’ir on the shoulder, “till then, rest up and save your strength Nijoh’ir. We’re going to need it.”

Nijoh’ir nodded and glanced at the Adder’s Nest once more, “alright. I can tell Jehantel if you-“

“I’ll do it,” Guydelot replied, “you’ve got all that fancy scion business to handle.” His smile was tight, they so rarely spoke of Nijoh’ir being a scion. Of being the Warrior of Light. Guydelot had caught on quickly and even Sanson, tactless though he was, had realized Nijoh’ir was here as a bard and Twin Adder regular and not to call him anything else. Nijoh’ir liked it that way.

“When they make a decision, or anything changes, let me know.”

“Promise,” Guydelot tapped his chest absently. Nijoh’ir hated to leave him here like this, to keep vigil alone.

“Until then. Fingers crossed.”

“Fingers crossed.”

And a prayer or two for good measure.


	10. 13 Wax

“Letter, kupo!”

Nijoh’ir about jumped out of his skin and whirled to look at the open window, where the delivery moogle bobbed in the air.

“My apologies, I had hoped my most proficient prodigy would be happy to see me!”

“I am!” Nijoh’ir assured him quickly before the Deputy Postmoogle’s pom could droop, “I was just lost in thought.”

That seemed to rally his spirits as he dug around in his bag and presented a letter to Nijoh’ir. He turned it in his hands, it had a wax seal on it, who in the seven hells sent him this?

“You’re sure this letter is for me and not one of my five brothers?”

“I’m quite sure, kupo!” The deputy postmoogle crossed his little paws over his chest, “I would not mistake your name, especially when Ser Aymeric has such nice penmanship!”

Oh, that was Aymeric’s family crest in the wax now that Nijoh’ir looked at it. He’d seen it on the wall of Aymeric’s manor when he’d been invited over for dinner.

He tore into it eagerly, a bit sorry to break the seal but sure enough the Postmoogle was right. This was definitely for him. Nijoh’ir grinned, his ears and tail wiggling.

“If Aymeric doesn’t stop inviting me to dinner all of Ishgard is going to get the wrong idea.”


	11. 14 Scour

“Nijoh’ir, what are you looking for?” He had volunteered to come with Urianger and Alisaie to look for some tomes in the Gubal Library but now that he was here they had quickly determined that he was not, in fact, looking for books on Aether theories.

Which was fine, he was mostly here for protection but now he was peering at the books and mouthing off titles and Alisaie had grown curious.

“Uh, _The Boy and The Dragon Gay_.” Nijoh’ir looked up from the shelf he was on to blink at her, “I was just curious mostly.”

Urianger looked up from book he had open to look over at Nijoh’ir, “pray tell, why doest thou search for that tome?”

“One of the Padjwals mentioned it to me,” well that raised only more questions, “and I figured if anywhere had a book banned in Ishgard for heresy it would be here so I thought I’d look.”

“Why did one of the Padjwals mentioned _that _book to you?”

“No reason.” Nijoh’ir was a terrible liar that he was as good at triple triad as he was had to be due to how little bluffing the game involved. “But I don’t read a lot. Or at all really. So, wanted to try it. And that one at least sounded interesting.”

Urianger and Alisaie shared a look before turning to Nijoh’ir again, “you don’t read?” Alisaie decided that was the best question to ask about any of that.

“Before The Echo I didn’t know how,” Nijoh’ir stared at the books again, eyes drifting over the titles, not embarrassed simply back to his task, “I knew how to write my name and what common words looked like so I wouldn’t get lost if I ever wandered into a town. But I couldn’t read a book. A sign post sure, not a book.”

There was a pause and Nijoh’ir turned to look over at them.

“Can’t do math all that well either.” Shrug of his shoulders, “I lived in the woods, didn’t need to. Jehantel had to teach me how to read sheet music, you know. He has all of his songs memorized too but just in case someone ever gave me some I could play it.”

“Fascinating,” Alisaie remarked, “well if you would like to learn I’m sure we’d happily teach you.”

Nijoh’ir’s ears twitched in acknowledgement and they went back to scouring the shelves for their various pursuits.

“Thanks.”


	12. 15 Makeup Day / 6 First Steps

The Miqo’te that stepped into the Archer’s Guild was a new face to Gridania. Luciane watched how he hesitated in the doorway, his eyes drifting about, tensing as he took in archer after archer before he spotted Leih and relaxed. Ah.

He seemed to be a Seeker by his eyes, slitted pupils, though when he offered a smile to Leih there was a hint of sharpened teeth. He moved slowly, his steps silent over the floor as he made his way to Luciane, he ducked his head as though avoiding Silvairre’s glare.

Hesitant but observant. There was potential in this recruit. Luciane hoped to someday see him standing tall and proud, she could see the experience in the muscles of his arms and shoulders, the training in his silent step.

He just needed polish.

“Hello,” he greeted her politely, “I’m Nijoh’ir Jesyho and I was told this was the Archer’s Guild.”

Leih had perked up at the name, her black ears sticking up through the holes in her hat to openly listen now.

Luciane nodded, “welcome.” She would test him, but she had little doubt he would rise to her expectations.

And as he listened to her instructions with silent intensity she wondered if perhaps he might even surpass them.


	13. 16 Jitter

“Ty?” Nijoh’ir’s ears twitched as his sister jumped at the sound of his voice, “kind of tense aren’t you?”

“You snuck up on me!” Tyago defended herself as though they hadn’t spent their lives sneaking up on each other. Her pale purple eyes lingered on him a moment before she looked back at the woods.

“Just… nervous. Kind of jittery.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “not gonna succeed on the hunt if I don’t get my focus back.”

“It’s okay to be worried,” Nijoh’ir commented absently, his tail curling around his ankles as he crouched next to her, “but you’re gonna be fine.”

Tyago slung her arm around his shoulders and pulled him over to mess up his hair, “I’m suppose to be the one with comforting and smart words Sunmane!”

“Since when!” Nijoh’ir squawked as he shoved her away, the two tumbled over the ground, attempting to pin the other down. “Ra! Help!”

A purple blur shot over and Tyago yelped as their brother tackled her off Nijoh’ir, “two against one isn’t fair Ir!”

Ra laughed as he helped Nijoh’ir pin her down, both of them sprawling over their sister to pin her down, “you’re bigger than us.”

“Not for long, have you seen Sunmane?” Ty jerked her leg to knee him in the gut, Nijoh’ir grunted, “he’s gonna get big. And you’re both heavy so get off!”

They tumbled off of her into a pile, grinning up at her, she sat up to dust herself off and glance at the woods again.

“You’re sure you’re ready to go tomorrow?” Ra asked softly, his ears flattened sadly, “you seem…”

“It’s weird being homesick for a place you haven’t left yet,” Ty replied softly, the three were silent. Soon Nijoh’ir and Ra would go and then it would just be their moms, Neseh and Masya. They were all growing up and looking out into the forest Nijoh’ir was getting jitters himself thinking about it.

About having to leave someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love getting to write about Nijoh'ir and his siblings.


	14. 17 Obeisant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a movement of the body expressing deep respect or deferential courtesy, as before a superior; a bow, curtsy, or other similar gesture. deference or homage.

"Ishgard is not wont to aid it's neighbors, but that does not prevlude it from manipulating them to serve it's own interests."

The words were barely out of the young Leveilleur's mouth before a flurry of movement began.

Lucia shifted into a battlestance, "chose your next words carefully!" Hardly a surprise.

What was, making even Lord Haurchefant jump was the Warrior of Light's outburst.

"Alphinaud!" He sounded furious, ears pinned back and Aymeric would admit his own unfamiliarity with Miqo'te body language but between the twitching puffed out tail and flat ears he did not think the Warrior of Light pleased.

Aymeric raised his hand to get Lucia to stand down, "he spoke from the heart."

Nijoh'ir scoffed openly, Alphinaud whirled on his companion, who stared down at him, eyes colder than Iceheart's lair.

"Do you have something to say Nijoh'ir?" Alphinaud asked, Nijoh'ir arched an eyebrow, arms folded over his chest.

"Oh now you'd like my opinion? Or do you want to ruin all the work I've done to getting us to even meet with Ishgard first?" He snarled and shook his head.

"Even _I _can tell he wants to help us Alphinaud so could ya not antagonize two of the only allies we've got offering help with like, next to nothing attached? We need to watch that anyway. You said that _yourself." _Nijoh'ir shrugged, "but what do I know about politics. You just bring me here to look pretty."

"You do that quite well." Lord Haurchefant's quip did wonders to soothe the tension, Nijoh'ir let out a breath and his ears slowly rose again.

Alphinaud was doing a fine job hiding his emotions, though Aymeric suspect led the boy was hurt to hear the Warrior of Light speak so.

"Yes, well then." Apologies were made, Aymeric offered them both an excuse for their behavior, both took it.

Alphinaud, having wrapped up the conversation, turned to Nijoh'ir and gave orders to him as though his earlier outburst had not occurred. "Come Nijoh'ir, back to the Rising Stones."

Nijoh'ir hesitated, his gaze slid to Lord Haurchefant before back to Alphinaud. Aymeric knew that look, and Alphinaud was going to find Nijoh'ir chafing under orders sooner rather than later if he did not change his attitude.

And then Nijoh'ir snapped his spine stright and heels together, crossed his arms before him and bowed. "Of course, Commander Leveilluer."

That was not the Crystal Brave salute. Aymeric was unsure, it had been so long since anyone in Ishgard had need to memorize Grand Company salutes, which company that was but it was a most spectacular "fuck you", one of the finest Aymeric had ever seen. Fury help them all if he and Estinien ever crossed paths. Though, based on the events unfolding it was a when not if.

Alphinaud floundered only a moment before he led them out. Aymeric let out a slow breath and turned to Lord Haurchefant. They were not close but he trusted the man's judgement and he knew the Scions best.

"Are relationships between the Scions and the Warrior of Light at risk of breaking down?"

Lord Haurchefant turned his gaze from the door to Aymeric, "I cannot say. I know Nijoh'ir respects their cause and yet... something has driven a rift between himself and them, most particularly young Mast- Commander Leveilluer."

Lucia folded her arms, "if I had to take orders from a sixteen year old that behaved like that I would be sour as well."

Aymeric let out a soft laugh at that, "he has potential. But, you are right, potential is not enough alone to lead as the Warrior of Light seems to be proving. Only time will tell how expirence will hone Commander Leveilluer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record I like Alphinaud, he's a great character. I just don't think giving a sixteen year old an army was a great idea (and surprise it ended badly!) and similarly he's not always great in how he treats the WoL so he and Nijoh'ir have a rough relationship.
> 
> Mostly cause that time Alphinaud flat out said they could use Haurchefant's feelings to the Scion's benefit.


End file.
